By Robert Higgs
In the mid-1970s,
I began to do consulting work in addition to my academic work. By that time, I
had become familiar with how economists generally analyze cooperation and
competition, in both the economy and the political realm. Economists put great
weight on gains from trade. Nobody, they like to say, walks past a $20 bill he
sees lying on the sidewalk. If a situation contains the potential for a trade
or other arrangement that will bring gain to a decision-maker, he will embrace
that trade or arrangement. This market process leads, in the theoretical
extreme, to the happy condition known as the Pareto Optimum—the situation in
which all potential gains from trade have been captured.
Notice that this view of mankind causes us to think of
people as self-interested, but not as vicious. Individuals are seen as, in
effect, indifferent to the welfare of their trading or cooperating partners,
but intent on making themselves as well-off as possible. They do not seek to
harm others, but only to benefit themselves (and those about whom they happen
to care).
As I launched into my consulting work, which involved
various efforts by Washington state and the U.S. government to resolve disputes
and to increase the harvestable resource in the Washington salmon fishery and
the federally-regulated offshore salmon fishery in the Pacific Ocean, I quickly
learned that the politicians in Olympia did not fit the model I had mastered in
my education as an economist. To be sure, they sought to feather their own
nests, by hook and by crook. But, in many important cases, they acted simply to
hurt their political and personal enemies—whose ranks, in some cases, were
quite large. Often, it seemed, Mr. P was clearly “out to get” Mr. Q, and he was
not simply seeking this objective, other things being the same; he was actually
out to get Mr. Q even if he had to bear a cost in doing so.
So, despite the formal models and informal rhetoric
that economists and other academic specialists wield in their research and
writing about politics and government, a critical element tends to be
completely overlooked: the powerful role of aversion, dislike, and hatred.
Economists represent individual preference orderings as rankings of valued
options: good thing A > good thing B > good thing C, and so on. But for
political actors, the preference ordering often looks more like: good thing A
> hurt person X > good thing B > hurt person Y > good thing C, and
so on.
This sort of preference is the political sentiment
Vladimir Lenin expressed when he remarked: “My words were calculated to evoke
hatred, aversion and contempt . . . not to convince but to break up the ranks
of the opponent, not to correct an opponent’s mistake, but to destroy him.” Closer
to home, Henry Adams observed that “politics, as a practice, whatever its
professions, has always been the systematic organization of hatreds.”
We see the importance of this element of politics
clearly in the contemporary conflict between Democrats and Republicans. Given
that these two parties are but two wings of the same predatory one-party state
that rules the United States, we might well wonder why their intramural feuding
often reaches such vitriolic extremes. The short answer is that despite the two
parties’ general similarity of fundamental positions, they comprise somewhat
different sorts of people—different in regard to religious conviction (or the
lack thereof), typical social position, culture, background, occupational
distribution, urban-rural composition, and ethnic makeup, among other
things—and the two groups tend to dislike each other; indeed, in many
individual instances, they despise one another. And their political
representatives, though more inclined to conspire and cut deals with the other
side, also represent their supporters along the hatred dimension. Occasionally,
when a politician does not realize that the microphone is live, we hear some
honest expression of his true feelings about his political opponents—“enemies”
is the more accurate word.
In view of the foregoing, we are well advised to
consider that whenever we seek to move a type of decision-making from private
life to the realm of politics and government, we are very likely moving it from
a world in which hatred is incidental and avoidable to a world in which hatred
is central and inescapable. Because a government imposes one rule, one outcome,
one state of affairs on everyone subject to its rule, the hatreds that go into
the making of that outcome become generalized and infused throughout the entire
society. Thus, what economists label a “public good” is often, in the most
substantive way, a “public bad.” Even if a person does not share any of the
component hatreds that politic actors express and deploy, no one can avoid living
in a politicized world fashioned in such large part by the organized expression
of hatred. It is, therefore, small wonder that some of us view the entire
apparatus of politics and government as the living embodiment of evil.
Even a devout Christian has no small difficulty in
following Christ’s admonition to “love your enemies and pray for those who
persecute you.” But when we live and act in the private realm, we can make our
best attempt to love others or at least to tolerate them in peace, and we have
many options for avoiding or running away from hateful people and situations;
occasionally we may even be able to lead someone, or ourselves, to substitute
love, or at least understanding, for hatred.
In politics and government, however, the institutional
makeup fosters hatred at every turn. Parties recruit followers by exploiting
hatreds. Bureaucracies bulk up their power and budgets by artfully weaving
hatreds into their mission statements and day-to-day procedures. Regulators
take advantage of artificially heightened hatreds. Group identity is emphasized
at every turn, and such tribal distinctions are tailor-made for the maintenance
and increase of hatred among individual persons who might otherwise disregard
the kinds of groupings that the politicians and their supporters emphasize
ceaselessly.
With a sigh, many people accept that politics and
government are, at best, necessary evils. I have great doubt that they are
necessary, at least in their present form, but I am certain that in this form
they are evil.
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